


Pensive

by Kaori_Nagisa



Series: The Prophet and the Virgin Mary [7]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 10:38:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5866213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaori_Nagisa/pseuds/Kaori_Nagisa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another chance to speak leads to a difficult conversation between Saren and Nova, with both having to come to terms with the strange emotions they've been feeling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pensive

Saren felt an odd sense of excitement as he dug out a bottle of turian brandy, even as the feelings were tempered by what he was aware of now. He’d been contemplating most of the day whether to bring up Mindoir to her - whether to ask if she remembered him from so long ago. After he had learned of her origins, the memories had certainly come flooding back into him like a torrent; a reminder of her youth, of what she had been through. It was as good of a wakeup call as any for him to stop harboring more salacious thoughts for the human. How could he even begin to think of her in such lewd ways when the memory of that tiny thing clinging to him like a newborn was now so prominent in his mind?

It was easier said than done to forget, however. 

The call had yet to even commence and Saren already felt a strong desire to drown himself in alcohol. It was all he could do not to open the brandy immediately, forcing himself to set it aside on the desk as he finally returned to the terminal, staring at the machine with an uncomfortable cocktail of emotions. He berated himself for the strong desire to speak to her, of how much he was looking forward to; at the same time, he couldn’t get thoughts of Mindoir out of his mind. He had been willing to leave that child behind, in a ruined colony full only of fire and the dead. He had thought her insignificant, a nuisance he couldn’t be bothered with. She had only been a human, after all, and his orders had said nothing of helping survivors. 

How could he face Nova anymore, remembering that? How could he still harbor desires for her even as the picture of that small child floated in his mind? 

She had invaded his thoughts in such a way that he was almost angry at her. It was a small comfort knowing he affected her in a similar fashion, even if she had never stated it. But Saren had all too easily read into the way she’d spoken to him the last time they had synced up for a call, the comments she’d let slip and had struggled so hard to excuse or backtrack on. Even her message from his time on Maji was very indicative of the effect his presence, his time given, had on her. The anger he felt for his own confused state made him want to abuse it - he wanted to make her suffer a little, the _least_ he could do in order to gain revenge for the maddening emotions she’d made him experience since that night at Chora’s. But he knew himself too well, and knew he could never hurt her the way he may have wanted to. He wasn’t even sure _if_ he wanted to.

Saren glanced over at the clock across the room, trying to remember what it had read the last time he’d started the call. Time on Earth was slightly different than on the Citadel, or anywhere else, and calling too soon may end up catching her while she was still occupied. He idly wondered if he should just let her start it this time, but Saren knew the girl well enough by now to realize she’d likely wait around for him for hours before even thinking to do it herself - if she did at all. His eyes lingered on the bottle of brandy for a moment before he took a seat and tried to push away further thoughts of wanting her here with him. He understood those least of all - why did he want her with him physically? The answer was likely one he was ashamed to admit; that he still wanted her body, that he wanted to control her again and teach her thoroughly of turian supremacy in the most hands-on way he could. Saren could only growl at himself. When had he become so utterly repulsive? 

He tried to push the lecherous thoughts away as he started up the terminal and navigated to Nova’s ID. He gave himself no time to hesitate, starting the call and trying to just ignore everything else except the sound of it trying to connect on her side. She wasn’t picking up immediately like before; this worried him, for some reason. Had he tried too early? Did she get caught up with further training? Was there someone else who she’d wanted to spend time with? 

He huffed angrily, feeling foolish. Was he really becoming jealous that she may have other people she wanted to spend time with? Nova had proven herself to be a charismatic and easily-approachable human, likely someone who could make friends as naturally as breathing. It would only make sense if she started having other obligations, people besides himself that wanted her time and attention. Saren drummed his fingers on the chair’s arm, realizing that even as he was aware of it, the thought didn’t sit well with him. 

Just as he was about to end the sync and resolve to try again in another half hour, the static dispersed and the scene of Nova’s room came into view, with the human soon entering into the video feed with an apologetic smile on her face. Saren felt himself tense up slightly as he took in the sight of her in what appeared to be no more than a long, thin white shirt, buttons going down the center and the ones near her chest hanging loosely, showing more than he thought was appropriate - her skin noticeably shining with moisture. Didn’t she have to shower in a separate area? He felt a sense of anger surge up as he questioned if she’d walked back to her room in nothing but that, in a military base filled with as many men as women. He dug his talons into the arm of the chair, mandibles held tight against his jaw as he listened to her apologize for being late, carelessly running a towel over the ends of her hair. 

“I got held up in my last class, the instructor was wanting to talk to me about some tests I’d need to do in the next month so I can move on to biotic training, and I was trying to get my shower in so I… um… Saren, are you okay?” Her voice was soothing; a blessing perhaps, as Saren soon relaxed slightly, trying to appear more casual and fighting that odd surge of irritation. He saw the way her smile fell slightly, the worry coming into her eyes - it was unacceptable. 

“I’m fine. A little stiff from my last assignment is all.”

“O-Oh… I’m sorry. Was it that bad?” 

“No worse than most other missions I’ve taken. Likely not to be all that memorable within a few month’s time, simply another case of idiotic mercenaries getting in over their heads. I did say I would tell you the full story, didn’t I? Perhaps that is as good a place to start tonight as any.”

 

* * *

 

Nova couldn’t help feeling a little anxious as she listened to Saren speak. His recounting of the events on Maji worried her, between the mention of the planet’s almost lethal radiation from the binary stars and the further mentioning of the extremes he had to resort to in order to infiltrate the mercenary camp. There was a hard edge to his voice, a more stern way of speaking that she had heard before; she couldn’t shake the feeling he was angry with her about something. It made trying to enjoy his story harder than usual. 

Perhaps it showed on her face, for he paused now and then and simply stared at her, only resuming when she gave him a smile and asked what happened next. Nova didn’t like feeling so… separated. Like there was a wall between them all of a sudden, but having no idea where it came from or why it was there. Even as she watched him, listened intently to his story as she always did, the words seemed to feel harsh, little stabs in her chest. 

It was when he started describing the firefight in detail that she finally had to ask him to stop, feeling her voice shake as she did so. 

“I-I’m sorry, it’s just… I’m sorry. It’s hard to…”

“Realize the sort of things my status requires me to do?” There was a hard edge to his tone, and it made tears sting at her eyes. 

“N-No, I know you… you can’t always solve things without… w-without violence, i-it’s just.. hearing about it, I guess..” 

“... I need to ask something of you, Nova. Are you aware that as a biotic, you are likely to get assigned to frontline missions? To strike teams?” 

She knew. Her instructors had been speaking more about it in the last month, some of them taking the time to engage her in discussions of her possible duties after being assigned. Nova wasn’t entirely happy with the idea of being in live combat situations, of using her biotics against others - but she wanted to see the galaxy. Resigning herself to a desk job in the Alliance wouldn’t allow that. She slowly nodded to him, avoiding his gaze. 

“You will need to get used to the descriptions of bloodshed. There may come a day when you’re looking down the barrel of a gun at someone who wants to kill you. You may be forced into situations where in order to survive, or to protect your squad, you need to rip apart an enemy with your biotics.” She felt his eyes on her, and it only made her want to shrink away. She hadn’t expected to be lectured on her lack of desire for violence. But as he spoke his next words, she peeked up at the softer tone. “You need to realize what you’re going into, Nova.” 

“I know what I’m going into, it’s just…” Just what? She didn’t know. Nova had never been someone who revelled in combat, or even enjoyed portrayals of it in action movies or the like. Even knowing military life was harsh and involved keeping the peace in all manner of ways, from diplomatic talks to more dangerous endeavors such as covert missions or raids on mercenary strongholds, likely even ship to ship combat, somehow she’d felt that could all be avoided in her own service. Biotics division surely had other routes besides direct combat, ones that still would lead into what she’d always wanted out of the Alliance. 

But it was still the military. She’d seen the types who came from the Alliance, the men with hard-set jaws and women with cropped hair, never smiling. Even her own guardians were still Alliance to the core, people who had seen more scuffles than she could even begin to imagine - not that she really wanted to in the first place. 

It wasn’t like she had many other alternatives. The Alliance was one of the few places she could exist as a biotic without facing the fear or prejudice of fellow humans. This was all she could do. 

“I’m… I’m sorry. I’ll try to get better about it.”

 

* * *

 

He sighed, nostrils flaring slightly in exasperation. 

Saren wasn’t sure what to make of her. Every single thing about the human just screamed that she wasn’t a fit for the military, especially not for frontline combat or support. Between her hesitance in using her biotic talent, to the way she cringed and pulled away from even the most mundane description of violence, he had no idea how she was planning to move past certain types of training later on. Nor how she planned to approach any assignments she was given once she finished. 

“You don't need to apologize for anything yet. But you need to get yourself used to the idea of inflicting harm, either with a gun or with your biotics. Out there, on a mission or in training, people are going to be counting on you to do what needs to be done.” He gave a pause, gauging the girl’s reaction. He normally would have thought nothing of being harsh, being a realist and telling someone they were on their way to getting themselves or others killed for the pathetic way they were acting. But he couldn’t with her - she needed to be approached differently, for her sake as well as his own. Seeing her eyes raising back to his, he felt safe enough to continue,”If you hesitate or cringe, you'll let them down. You need to be prepared.” 

Her silence was more than a little worrying, and he wondered whether he had still been too frank with her. Saren wished once again that she was with him right now, not even understanding why. It wasn’t as if he could do things much differently if she were. He may have even been more prone to harshness. 

“You’re right,” she finally said, her voice much quieter than before. Meek. Saren clenched his fist, feeling irritated at himself. “I’ll try to keep it in mind.” 

“Nova…” he sighed again, leaning closer to the desk. “I’m not angry with you. I know you may not want to hear what I’ve said, but I’m simply trying to look out for you, as your senior. I’ve had my own experience in the military, as well as my Spectre training - I simply want you to be aware of what is expected of you, even at the most basic level of your Alliance. Do you understand?” 

A single nod, her eyes drifting away again and shoulders lifting defensively. 

“Nova, I am _not_ angry with you,” he felt the need to reiterate. How he wished he could reach to her and lift her gaze back, hold her head high so she couldn’t try to hide away from him. He felt the thrum of his subvocals as he stared at her lowered face, the keen they made for her just to look at him again. It was hard to understand why he couldn’t bear the sight of her looking so sad. 

He remembered the way she had cried on Mindoir. The wailing she had made after he told her everyone else was gone. He’d thought it annoying then, a nuisance he wasn’t interested in dealing with. She had been so pathetic in that moment, a pitiful child not realizing that tears wouldn’t bring her family back to her. 

“Look at me. Please.” 

He couldn’t believe he was resorting to begging like some pathetic civilian - no, like a trained varren, whining for a treat. But he repeated the word again, saying her name deeper, voice growing rougher, taking on a needy tone. He knew she heard it; it was all too easy to see the flush that erupted on her skin. She finally gazed back at him, those emerald eyes having changed so little from when she was a child. It was maddening. _She_ was maddening, a tempest he kept getting caught up in without understanding how or why. 

“I-I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin things like this, I-I just…” her voice shook, and he felt himself tense up as a tear slid down her cheek. 

Unacceptable. She wasn’t allowed to cry over him, not like this. Not when he couldn’t even touch her. 

“Don’t. You’ve done nothing wrong, Nova. I apologize for upsetting you,” he growled, the words seemingly tumbling from his mouth in quick succession. Seeing the pitiful look she was giving him, he slowed himself, trying to appear calm. “I don’t want you to cry. You don’t need to cry.” 

She somehow managed not to, and it reminded him once more of the first time he had ever met her. The way her sobs had cut off after he spoke to her, after he’d placed a hand on her tiny back. She really was the same little girl from Mindoir. Only now she was a grown woman, someone who he had taken advantage of and ruined, who seemed to cling desperately to his every word. Saren wasn’t sure where to go from here.

“Have you ever seen a nebula up close?” he suddenly asked, not even sure where the words had come from. 

“N-No, not really… I know on the trip to the Citadel we were inside the Serpent Nebula, b-but.. well, the ship we were on didn’t have a lot of windows, and, um…” 

“It’s quite a view. The next time I am forced on assignment, I’ll try to capture an image from my ship’s frontal viewport. It’s a shame I didn’t think to do so when I was in the Armstrong Nebula.”  


*****  
 

He’d got her talking again. It was slow at first, but soon all traces of tears in her eyes disappeared, and her smile was bright once more as she started engaging further in conversation. He was avoiding more stories of his missions, wary to trip over a sensitive topic again like he had done with Maji - instead, Saren focused on detailing about the sort of planetary activity he had witnessed, spacial phenomena that caught his eye; the sunrise over a planet’s surface, the thin strip of light that ringed it like a halo until his ship finally passed out from behind it. Anything he could think of to turn the conversation in a more positive direction. It was simply a bonus that Nova’s eyes were alight with curiosity, her lips forming strange shapes as he described things to her. She was happy once more, the issues of half an hour ago seemingly distant and gone from her mind. Saren wasn’t sure if he was thankful for that or not. But he was for her sweet laughter.

Even as he felt relieved for her renewed exuberance, however, he couldn’t help feeling tense as he realized his eyes kept wandering. She didn’t seem to notice, for which he was grateful - despite the lack of awareness only seeming to encourage his dipping gaze. He seemed to pay more attention than was necessary to her lips, at the way they moved and formed around each word she spoke, every giggle she elicited. Her hand movements were animated, still coming up to cover her mouth when she laughed too much, only to fall away again with his eyes following their path intently. He could feel his plates shifting slightly as his eyes fell to her breasts every now and again, barely restrained behind that thin shirt and the cleft between them easily seen above the stark white fabric. Saren could recall just how sensitive the strange mounds were, the noises he’d pulled out of her as he’d roughly teased them. He was sickened by his own thoughts but unable to stop them, merely hoping Nova couldn’t pick up on the dangerous tone of his subvocals. 

He wasn’t sure when he’d popped open the brandy, but it wasn’t long before he found the bottle in his hand, taking sips of it now and then in an effort to chase away the desires with alcohol. She didn’t comment on his drinking, and he briefly wondered if the sight of booze brought her mind back to that night at Chora’s, the way it did with him. 

He wasn’t about to ask, though. 

Saren desperately wished she wouldn’t shift about so much as they spoke. It was beginning to feel like every movement she made had her breasts shifting in a distracting way - each time earning an appreciative growl from him, just low enough that she took no notice. He _really_ was beginning to wish she was physically with him, even as he knew this was for the best. He couldn’t have controlled himself if she’d been within arm’s reach; Saren knew she would have allowed the loss of control, as well. That was the most maddening part. 

The alcohol wasn’t helping. He hadn’t really expected it to, merely hoped it would dull his libido enough that it wouldn’t prove more of a distraction as the night wore on. Instead, it only seemed to encourage his more lascivious thoughts. 

“Nova,” he finally said, interrupting some small spiel she’d gone on about a formation of stars seen from Earth. His voice came out huskier than he’d meant it to, and she noticed - he saw the way a flush rose over her cheeks, how she seemed to stutter in surprise and go quiet, eyes focused on him in anticipation. Were he not so utterly repulsed with himself at the moment, he would have found the amount of control his voice exercised over her rather satisfying. “Put something else on.” 

“... W-What?” The flush only seemed to grow, spreading further over her face. Saren wanted to slap himself. 

“I mean put on something warmer. You appear to be getting cold.” 

“I… o-oh.. s-sort of, a little, but um… y-you want me to change right now?” 

“Of course, why else would I mention it? Put something warmer on, lest you catch anything,” he said, letting a little irritation slip into his response. Was it that hard for her to understand what he wanted her to do? 

It was only when Nova’s hands shakily reached towards the buttons on her shirt that Saren realized the mistake he’d made with his choice of words. Yet for a moment, he could say nothing, seemingly transfixed by the shy way her eyes avoided his, the way her lip quivered until she bit down on it. Her fingers trembled as she unbuttoned the first, almost nervously gripping at her shirt in an effort to keep it closed. He heard her whimper, hesitating on the second - and felt his plates part completely, shaft painfully working its way out and pushing against the under armour he wore. _Spirits_ , he wished she wouldn’t stop. But he couldn’t let her continue. 

“Not… like that,” he managed to growl, teeth gritted and mandibles tight against his jaw as he struggled to will the desire away, subvocals thrumming with need. “I didn’t mean strip for me. Put something on _over_ that flimsy thing you’re wearing, you foolish girl.” 

“A-Ah… I-I’m.. I’m so sorry, I-I thought… I-I, um..” Damn it all, he saw her eyes watering again. Saren had to stop himself from snarling in frustration - not at her, but at himself. Perhaps also at her, actually. He’d read her profile, he knew she was a brilliant young woman. Surely she wasn’t this… vapid. Nor that easy to manipulate into giving a strip show. He almost regretted having to stop her, if she was _that_ willing to do so for him. Almost. 

“Just find yourself something,” he said, voice dangerously low. It was a blessing when she moved out of the view of the monitor for a moment, coming back soon after with a coat-like garment in Alliance blues. He noted with relief that she’d zipped the thing up, completely obscuring her cleavage. “Good girl.” 

He wasn’t sure whether to be worried at the blush that phrase elicited out of her.

 

* * *

 

Even after receiving the call for lights out and bidding goodnight to Saren, with the promise of being available the following evening for another call, Nova couldn’t shake the odd feeling she’d gotten since the confusion. Putting the terminal in sleep mode and plunging herself into darkness, she flushed at how quickly she’d just assumed he wanted her to undress in front of him. When had she ever been that stupid? Going over his words in her mind again, she realized he’d never given any sort of indication for wanting her to strip - she’d assumed it all, read too far into his meanings for something that wasn’t there. She’d projected her own feelings onto them. 

She’d be lying to herself if she’d pretended like she wouldn’t have gotten naked for him. Her own nerves had betrayed her before she’d even been able to process his words, forcing her hands to start unbuttoning her shirt. 

Regardless of how much she’d kept trying to keep her crush on him hidden, it only seemed to bubble to the surface every time she heard his voice. Saren had made it abundantly clear to her that nothing was ever going to happen between them again, and in a way she thought that was for the best - between their career choices keeping them light years apart, as well as the vast difference in age and life experiences, the thought of trying to maintain anything beyond this odd friendship they had was a difficult one. She was lucky it was even to the level it was right now. Saren had given her more than she felt she deserved, simply by putting up with her for this long despite his continued disdain for her entire species. Yet still, she seemed to fail at every turn when it came to suppressing her feelings. 

There were many nights she’d spent thinking of his touch. It made her feel guilty every time, yet the thoughts of his rough skin pressing against her own rose unbidden to her mind on some of the hardest nights, where she felt the most tired and frustrated with the endless training and rigid schedule. Nova was ashamed to admit she’d contemplated touching herself solely in an effort to simulate the way he’d taken her that night at Chora’s Den. 

As she cautiously felt her way onto her bunk, pulling away the covers and letting herself fall against the pillow, Nova couldn’t shake off the oddness she felt at her own rash actions. Was something wrong with her? Her body ached in a way she had never experienced before meeting the Spectre, the feeling rising almost every night she was alone with her thoughts like this. Had it been the same for Tanya or Malia, when they were with the guys who’d taken their virginity? Had they also had a near-constant feeling of need for them? 

She didn’t simply want Saren - it felt like she _needed_ him, in many ways. 

There was a brief contemplation over touching herself again, as she settled into bed and stared up at the darkness surrounding her. It was worse tonight, a veritable _burning_ in her lower body - and she didn’t know why. Remembering the way Saren had growled as she’d started unbuttoning her shirt sent a shiver across her spine, and Nova let out a tiny whimper as she closed her legs, feeling that odd tingling she never could get rid of. 

Maybe just one night of taking care of it wouldn’t hurt her. The walls separating her room from those of other recruits were thick enough, she thought - she couldn’t recall ever hearing them making noise in their own bunks, so surely she would be safe enough if she ended up making… noises. She felt like there was a high chance she couldn’t control them. But as she started reaching her hand down towards her lower regions, a thought crossed her mind which gave her pause. What would Saren think if he knew? She felt ashamed, imagining the disappointment or revulsion in his voice as he questioned why she’d ever touch herself over him. The thought was enough to have moisture sting at her eyes. Everything had become so frustrating since he had taken her, and it was made all the worse by the wall he kept putting up between them. 

What did she want from him? 

Disgusted at herself, she retracted her hand, turning onto her side and bundling up tightly within the sheets in an effort to keep herself immobilized. Nova felt like crying for the third time that night, and the worst of it all was that she didn’t know _why_.  
  
He had invaded her mind and she couldn’t understand why.


End file.
